


Kiss it Better

by emissaryarchitect



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: Hardcore fluff, Other, one of my many AU ficlets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5503532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emissaryarchitect/pseuds/emissaryarchitect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six doesn't understand the need for interaction, but they understand the want for affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss it Better

**Author's Note:**

> a request on my tumblr.

Crow rubbed her hand, hissing at the raw sections across her knuckles, worn away. “Yeowch, this hurts like a b-”

Odin, sitting across the room, gave her a cross look.

“…like a _lot_ ,” she corrected sourly, pinching her mouth into a thin line and frowning. She wrapped the wounds gingerly, trying not to smart the torn skin, but she saw Olai was watching her from the corner of her eye and she started to look tougher while she wrapped the gauze.

Six thought the sentiment of family was overrated, or in the very least, annoying. Trying to please your uppers was understandable – but thinking someone was better than you simply because of the family structured hierarchy was ridiculous.

They didn’t say this aloud, though. Honestly Raven’s or Crow’s smacks did little to no damage when they were insulted, but her screeching was comparable with the blares of a boat adrift. They really couldn’t stand the yelling of children.

“Awwh,” Raven teased as she balanced precariously on the top of a couch “does someone need a kiss to make it better?” Crow threw a damp dish rag at her face and a squabbling fight started, but Six’s thoughts were elsewhere.

Kiss it better?

What an interesting concept. The action of smashing your mouth against something couldn’t physically make anything feel better, but they supposed it was a sentimental act of affection or something.

Olai gave Six a piercing look in passing, but they held the stare and sharpened it. The glare of a fugitive was nothing against a general’s scowl. This boy had been through a lot - that was shown through the roughness of his functions - but he could never equal Six’s absolute power. Olai was too prideful to look away, but someone entered the room and he broke contact to see who.

Ava entered and stepped aside to tug on Odin’s shirt. They spoke softly to each other – Odin tried to hide a grin behind his hand when she jabbed him in the side with a joke. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled bashfully.

Six narrowed their eyes and had a few choice words in mind for what they would call Odin.

But they never did.

It wasn’t because it would hurt his feelings, or because Ava would be mad at them – it wouldn’t do any good. Odin had zero confidence in the first place and insults slid off him like water off a duck’s back. He literally didn’t care. It was like he had gone so far into himself that he popped out the other side.

It was annoying.

It was brash.

He smiled at Ava again and Six stood to leave the room. They couldn’t stand to watch them interact.

Odin could mirror her smile, could touch skin to skin, could sing and laugh and act like a person around her like what she wanted. Six couldn’t be that, and it was an ache in their flesh, where their thoughts turned to bone and they walked stiffly away, their insides jutting with sharp edges. It hurt.

They had no desire to be different than what they were. Their yearning for real flesh and to feel the sunlight across their face and to taste and see were killed the moment lenses were fused to their corneas, and when their bones were replaced with hard ceramics, synthetic skin wrapped over plastic muscle.

What they desired was for Ava to love them as what they were. Oh sure, she cared for them, they thought bitterly as they left the room. Ava cared for them as a friend, or a child to babysit, or even a pet. They were a pleasant, useful distraction.

Ava did not love them. She didn’t smile at them like how she smiled at Odin, like how she played with the girls, like how she desperately tried to earn Maggie’s friendship.

They stepped out onto the front porch and wondered what the air smelled like. Their filters prevented any tainted air from entering their lungs, but it also prevented any scents. Would the air be cool and crisp, as shown by the lazily falling leaves, or damp and mulchy, smelling softly of fresh soil?

They looked up, and the sky was mottled with bruises, grey and purple clouds overpowering the sun with a somber atmosphere. It was refreshing. A shining sun every day made them feel bitter and old.

Someone stepped out behind them, and with a curt look over one shoulder they relaxed upon seeing scarlet hair and golden skin. Ava stood next to them, brushing elbows. They couldn’t really feel it, but they acknowledged the gesture with a bump back.

“It’s cloudy,” Ava stated aloud, casting a concerned glance Six’s direction. The unspoken translation was: _are you okay?_

Six rolled their shoulders in a shrug. “Sometimes it’s better to be cloudy. I tire of common weather.”

_I’m tired._

Ava reached out and gave them a slight pat, and they appreciated the attempt at comfort. They stood in silence, before Ava leaned forward, her hair covering her face like a thick curtain, horns cresting over pointed ears like a circlet. She exhaled steadily, and plumes of smoke peeked out between the strands of her hair.

“Things are only going to get worse,” she spoke softly, her voice terribly frail and exhausted, fatigue saturated into every word. “I used to think, when I was a kid, the worst thing I had to worry about was finding a husband, like my mom always complained about. Silly, right?”

“Not really,” they responded neutrally. “I used to wonder if I would worry about finding someone to love me, as well. Not so much, anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Seems trivial. Bigger things to think about,” but they knew that was a lie. Every spare moment want spent pining, and they cursed their stoicism. Ava nodded gravely, looking up at them, her pupils burning.

“What’s the biggest thing you’re thinking about?” she asked curiously, clicking her heels together idly.

The answer didn’t take long. “Surviving, I suppose. Or at least winning.” They sat in neutral silence for a long moment, watching the sky splotch with darker colors, the violet hues giving way to blues and blacks as the sun set. A few golden ringlets of sunlight burst through the thin clouds, the sky freckled with fire, before they were finally snuffed out.

They sat in darkness.

Six’s cheeks were illuminated by the dull blue glow from their eyes, their pale face looking almost ghostly.

Ava looked far differently, her skin aflame and making her whole body like a golden statue, her hair frothing over her shoulders as she stood up, the scarlet boiling down her back as she tossed her head against the weak wind.

“It’s cold,” she said.

“I wouldn’t know,” they replied, and a flicker of sadness rippled through her expression before they both went inside.

OOOOO

They didn’t come out unscathed.

The battle was brutal – Six regretted making the elite’s training programs so perfect. It was strange and almost surreal to fight other elites, especially since their faces were constructed to mirror their own. Watching them crumple in agony before dying was nightmarish. They’d probably relive it in the quiet moments of the night.

For the moment, they winced as they stepped forward, staggering against the wall. Shrapnel from an explosion had dug deep through their armor and burrowed into the blue synthetic flesh, and droplets of syrupy blue blood lazily dripped down their pearly armor.

Ava was busy patching up the other hosts – immortality did not mean resistance to pain, and they suffered greatly.

The battle was won, at least. Six retreated to their quarters in the ship and crumpled against the mirror, fingers leaving streaks of blue across the glossy surface.

They could still feel pain. That was problematic. They couldn’t be useful if they were overcome by pain, but their brain was still very real and very fleshy and still reminded them that they weren’t a perfect immortal.

They rasped breaths, feeling their insides shudder as all sorts of synthetic and artificial resistances in their immune systems kicked into full gear, flushing out fluids to clean wounds and pulling the fake flesh together to heal.

Finally knots of pain began to bulge in their flesh where the shrapnel in their body was. Carefully they stripped off their armors, showing transparent white skin, and began the arduous task of using tweezers to carefully remove each fragment.

It didn’t take long, luckily. Elites were given such a title because their bodies were infallible to most attacks, and wounds sustained were pushed and pulled until they could be healed properly. A little in can in the corner was filled with half an inch of blue blood and a handful of metal garbage they had dug out.

The door hissed open and they froze.

Ava wandered in with a hand across her face, talking aloud. “That fight was almost too… much…” she trailed off as she saw their bare stomach and back, covered in tiny, almost surgical looking cuts in their precision. She instantly rushed over, putting a hand between their shoulder blades asking aloud “Oh no, are you alright? I can get a medkit-”

“I am fine,” they replied with a slight tremor of humor in their tone. “They will heal soon.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” She sounded upset and offended, her hair on end and the tips of ivory fangs peeking out from her upper lip. They wanted to step away to bring some distance between them, but she had her hand firmly planted on their back and could feel their micromovements.

“There were more important matters, and I can take care of myself,” they assured, feeling an aching, pulsing warmth from her hand. That felt strange, and alien, and they resisted the urge to fly across the room to void it.

She finally pulled her hand aside and their back felt colder. “You need to tell me when these things happen.”

“Why, to worry you more?” They were readying themselves for another sardonic remark, but choked on their words as Ava leaned her forehead against their back, fine hairs tickling the back of their neck.

“I want you to be okay,” she admitted softly, and the confession was said a little louder than a whisper, her tones tender. Their breath was frozen in their throat. “Can I do anything to help?”

They finally reached up and pointed to a larger wound across their shoulder, still bleeding. Ava looked from it to Six’s face, but they were looking away.

“Kiss my shoulder.”

They felt her heat in her blush, her hair going on end. “Wh-What? You- why?”

“Kiss it better.”

They weren’t sure if she actually would, or if the notion was too foolish or not. In reality, Ava could do nothing about how quickly or slowly the wounds healed, but affection wise, that was a different story.

They were almost certain they said the wrong thing until her lips pressed against the wound softly, the pain prickling with the pleasure of her warmth. They tried not to go tense, but their body seized and they swallowed hard as she peppered the wounds on their back with sweet kisses. They finally put their hands over their face in a fluster and she stopped.

“Uhm… do you… feel any better?”

“Yes,” they admitted between their gloved fingers, blinking rapidly, trying to disperse the heat that had gathered in their cheeks. Why were they so warm? They didn’t feel temperature anymore, and yet here they were, shuddering from the blissfulness of their lightheadedness.

Ava wiped beads of blue blood from her mouth before mumbling “I should… go and check on the others,” and she hastily departed. Six didn’t have the heart to stop her – she had already treated them with this nugget of affection.

Soon, their wounds were healed and they clipped their armor back on, their spine still tingling. Stepping out the door, they saw Odin teasing Ava.

“Wh-What, a-are you g-gonna k-kiss my w-wounds better?” he teased lightly.

“Of course not you big baby,” Ava snapped good-naturedly, smacking his arm. She stood up to go check on the others, and in a moment of rare realization, Odin shifted nervously.

“Y-You’re s-smiling with your e-eyes again.”

Six crossed their arms and leaned against the nearby wall. “Well, she didn’t kiss your _boo-boos_ better.”

“Wh-what, did she k-kiss _yours_?” Odin asked with a sneer. When Six only tossed their head and lifted their brows suggestively, they relished the look of comprehension on his face, jaw going slack with a sloppy purple blush exploding across his ears and cheeks. “O-OH. Sh-She – I – o-oka-ay,” he stuttered wildly, cupping his hands across his ribs.

It was a bold move, even for them – but it was rare moments when they felt warm, and they did nothing to stop to feeling.

They knew Ava was just tossing them a bone, so to speak – but when she returned and blushed upon seeing them, they gave themselves the privilege of doubting that idea.


End file.
